The Hotohori and Chichiri
by Bey
Summary: The Hotohori and Chichiri| The Parody of Hong-Nan's Prince and the Pauper
1. A New Beginning

The Chichiri and the Hotohori| The Hong-Nan Prince and the Pauper  
  
{Disclaimer| In no way am I affiliated with Fushigi Yuugi, though how much I want to be. I do not have any effect on the original series, which is probably a good thing.}  
  
A young Hotohori sat in the throne room; he was no older than twelve or thirteen. Beautiful as he would always be, he flicked a few pieces of hair from his face. He was oblivious to the outside world, the streets, and his country that he would rule. He stood up, pacing the throne room aimlessly, as all boys do when they are not amused.  
  
Meanwhile, deep in the heart of Hong-Nan, the small Chichiri ran in the streets. He was staying with relatives while his parents were ill, as they feared he would catch a illness. He ran through the marketplace, harrasing the cart owners. Tossing apples at girls, and running wild in his chibified form, which was basically all he was as a child. Popping up randomly, who would guess that this was the youth of the well-behaved, somewhat sane Chichiri that we all know and love.  
  
Hotohori, finally fed up with his boredom, decided to sneak outside. He pretended he was a Suzaku Warrior, or a James Bond, as he played Mission Impossible to get outside. His two index fingers held out as though they were two swords, as he made whooshing sounds with his lips. He turned to look behind him, and *BAM!*. He walked right into a wall. He scoffed, "Great, now my face will be ruined." he complained. He dropped his charade and sulked out to the gates, leaning on them staring out through them to the bustling city. Oh how he wished to join them everyday, to be normal. Of course, this was impossible, besides, what would he do if he couldn't have his perfect image at all times? He wondered how the people in the street could live like that; No one to draw their baths, fix their food, dress them, chauffer them everywhere. "Hmm..They think they have it so hard."  
  
"Who are you talking to?" Said Chichiri, sitting on top of the gate, grinning. He looked so much different without his mask, but he still had the trademark bangs. Sticking straight up into the sky like a flag pole.  
  
{Too be continued in Chapter 2.} 


	2. The True Origin of No Da

Chapter II  
{Disclaimer| In no way am I affiliated with Fushigi Yuugi, though how much I want to be. I do not have any effect on the original series, which is probably a good thing.}  
  
"Huh? Erm...What's wrong with your head. Its got some stuff sticking up..." said motioning to his forehead, then up to his bangs. "It looks like a goat licked your face; and it got stuck like that?" It was obvious that young Hotohori had not been as well trained as once thought, because this early in life he was well outspoken.  
  
Chichiri looked somewhat taken back at this blunt comment. "Uhh...erm.I mean. No. I thought everyone has hair like this.I mean.Yeah." Said somewhat distractedly, failing at his attempt to not look like a complete and total idiot. He tilted his head observing Hotohori. "What's it like to live in that palace?" Said, arching a brow.  
  
"Its awful, No da." He said, smirking. He then untied his hair, tossing it, then retying it back.  
  
"NO DA!?" Chichiri exclaimed. "I like that phrase, I think I'm going to use it know. No Da!" He grinned broadly then did a little jig before sitting back down. "Anyway, why is it so awful?"  
  
Hotohori shrugged, not quite able to answer. After a few moments he finally spoke. "Because. I've never been out of the palace. I want to see how other people live."  
  
"Maybe you can, no da." He said. He snapped his fingers and suddenly he was an exact replica of Hotohori. "Now.." He then stood up, trying to master what little chi he obtained and channel it towards Hotohori, who was shaking slightly. Then, a blinding flash appeared as a crashing sound. BOOM. And when the smoke cleared..  
  
{Stay tuned for Chapter Three, I'll have it up by Saturday guaranteed.} 


End file.
